Tony & Wendy's Travel Blog

Sorry for the delayed publication and the lack of rants and jokes but all this consultancy work is getting in the way of fun. Never mind just 10 more days and I’ll be over the worst of it.

Up at the crack of sparrows for our flight to Salt Lake. Good flight. Excelent service. Splashed out with the air miles to upgrade to Premium economy comfortable. Overall I think it was worth it not quite as good as upper class but pretty good.

Get to Hertz and as usual my cheapest mid-sized car enables me to select from a range of cars including 4 eight seater SUV. Settle for the Yukon. It’s ginormous, a family of 7 could live in it.

After 24 hours we arrive at our 2nd home and the electronic door lock won’t work. To top the day off we both get soaked by the sprinklers – hope it’s not recycled sewage water. Phone the management company and within half an hour they have someone round to let us in by the fool proof mechanism of a key.

Off out early to go kayaking with Park City Mountain Sports Club (PCMSC) and get from under Wendy’s feet while she unpacks – well that my justification. Wow it was rough out there on the Jordanell Reservoir, all the Stand Up paddle boarders chickened out and wanted a kayak. My experience of SUP on a mill pond is that it’s abuts exciting as watching paint dry. At least if it’s rough or you’re on the sea it must be more challenging.

Then in the afternoon it’s off to the supermarket – I escape to Starbucks. Then the liquor store for the essentials.

Nearly bleed to death as I have the nosebleed from hell and it just won’t stop – bet I lost pints of blood.

Just get back and Bob and Marilyn come round to welcome us back, complete with their own booze. I haven’t been here 24 hours yet and already I’ve sinned by drinking before 17:00.

In the evening it’s time for some HBO. Then there’s that moment when you wake up on the settee, watching a blank TV screen, in a dark room, with a glass of an awesome whiskey in hand wondering where her in doors has gone and thinking eee bye gum she must be pissed with me. Never mind, I manage to finish off that awesome whiskey and stagger up the wooden hill.

Oh to be stood having a pee and you’re that tired – only 4 hours sleep last night – that it takes you every ounce of energy and concentration not to nod off mid flow.

Lazy start to the day and then I knuckle down to get some of this consultancy work done.

11:00 and I’m off Bowling with the Newcomers group. What an abysmal score, just manage to crack 100.

Tootle off down to the National Ability Centre to help out with the Archery. Bloody hell it’s been cancelled, so good of them to let me know, time for a minor rant with them, they really need to get their act together, not the first time this has happened.

Try unabomber again. This time we both manage to stay awake.

Morning working.

Afternoon off down to the gun range with joe.

Then in the evening we’re off to Bob & Marilyn’s for dinner and champagne to welcome us back. Quality Papa Murphy’s pizza, makes me revise my view of American pizza outside of Chicago. Then we’re all off to a 1940’s evening, complete with big band, many old planes, some dancing – I pass with my “bad leg”. All in Heber airport hanger. I expected it to be infested with geriatrics all dressed in mothballed 1940’s glad rags, but good to see so many younger people had made the effort. Wow the fashions were so stylish, unlike the drab, shapeless sacks they wear these days. A good night and plenty of wine.
Work

Up and out for a hike, “Sultan out and back” with Bob and Marilyn. Pleasant hike out but the way back is all uphill. That’s bad enough but it’s compounded by the constant earache I get along with”are we there yet” almost every 10 steps.

Stop for lunch at Sammy’s. I pass on lunch but can’t resist a Pilsner – forgive me for I have sinned yet again.

Afternoon working again – it really is getting boring now but I’ve my recommendations and new contract terms to produce by the 18th. At least the money’s good.

In the evening Bob and Marilyn come round for dinner, but more importantly a diary planning session – there’s just so much to do, how will we ever fit it all in?

Then more attempts to watch Unabomber without nodding off.

Kayak with NAC in the morning but they’ve only one candidate so it’s hardly worth it.

Wendy’s volunteering at the hospital in the afternoon so I’m the taxi service, in between getting some work done.

Then just before tea we both take a pleasant bike ride to check out our bikes.

Evening’s more work and Unabomber.

It’s a full day out with Doris and Paul, friends from Los Angelas, who are staying at Snowbird. We give them the Grand tour Jordanelle, PCMR base, Deer valley and of course main street. Lunch at silver star. Afternoon drinks on the patio at No Name Saloon, dinner at High West. High West was very disappointing, not a patch on the meal or choice of menu we had in winter.

Sadly my consultancy work – it’s a four letter word – has kept me busy and meant a delayed posting of this, with no time for rants, religion or jokes.

Off down to Pont de Hoc. On D-Day 225 American rangers scaled the cliffs to take out a heavily fortified Kraut gun emplacement. Whilst they achieved their objective only 90 survived.

Pointe du Hoc is a promontory with a 100 ft cliff overlooking the English Channel on the coast of Normandy in northern France. During World War II it was the highest point between Utah Beach to the west and Omaha Beach to the east. The German army fortified the area with concrete casemates and gun pits. On D-Day (6 June 1944) the United States Army Ranger Assault Group assaulted and captured Pointe du Hoc after scaling the cliffs.

Then drove to Marie St Elgise – famous for it’s church with a D-Day paratrooper dangling from it – for lunch.

The town’s main claim to fame is that it played a significant part in the World War II Normandy landings because this village stood right in the middle of route N13, which the Germans would have most likely used on any significant counterattack on the troops landing on Utah and Omaha Beaches. In the early morning of 6 June 1944 mixed units of the U.S. 82nd Airborne and U.S. 101st Airborne Divisions occupied the town in Mission Boston, giving it the claim to be one of the first towns liberated in the invasion.

Gun emplacement

The early landings, at about 0140 directly on the town, resulted in heavy casualties for the paratroopers. Some buildings in town were on fire that night, and they illuminated the sky, making easy targets of the descending men. Some were sucked into the fire. Many hanging from trees and utility poles were shot before they could cut loose.

A well-known incident involved paratrooper John Steele of the 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment (PIR), whose parachute caught on the spire of the town church, and could only observe the fighting going on below. He hung there limply for two hours, pretending to be dead, before the Germans took him prisoner.

Then in the evening we went to a local restaurant that the owner had told us was only closed on Sunday evening. He speaks with forked tongue. It was closed. As luck would have it we bump into the owner who now says it is closed Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. In fact it sounds like it’s hardly ever open, just when he can be bothered. Typical arrogant French, with attitude and about as enterprising and as much charm and get up and go as a dyslexic sloth.

I walk off and throw my arms up in Gaelic disgust. He’s a complete waste of oxygen.

That’s two restaurants in town we’ll not be going to. In fact by the time they’ve seen my Tripadvisor review we’ll probably have a lifetime ban.

Go to Campanelle where we are greeted with a smile and hearty welcome. Great choice of food, both al la carte and formula; awesome food; great silver service with a laugh and a smile. Reasonably priced. Never had Galletes before, they were awesome. We’ll be going back there again.

A small whisky and a small bourbon and I manage to survive an episode of Homeland before drifting off to bed for the best nights sleep for months – a sleep of the just.

Excitement bubbles over. It’s market day. The women can hardly wait, so after breakfast we gallop into town. Barry and I leave them to it while Barry has a freshly made sausage baton and then we tootle off for a coffee.

Back to the caravan to discover an ant invasion. Wendy has a complete meltdown. Spray the little bastards but still they keep coming.

Drop the roof down on the car and have a pleasant sunny ride down to Carantan to the big Lclerc. Sadly they don’t sell the Elijah Craig whiskey. Typical arrogance of the French as they must think Wendy may be a thief, as they demand to see inside her shopping bags. Standard practice in French supermarkets. What a disgraceful way to treat your customers. Arrogant and disrespectful.

Dinner of Fajitas for us all round at our ant colony. I think we’re winning the battle. Down a couple of bottles of wine and finish off the Double Rye.

I really do like people who fly the union flag. Flying it in France probably infuriates the locals, so even more reason to do it. After all said and done you’d think they’d be grateful for us saving their arrogant necks in two World Wars, but none of that. Anyway one of the Brits on our site is proudly flying the Union flag and one celebrating our soldiers. Sad new is the Union flags upside down. You would think that anyone who bothers to fly the flag would at least take the trouble to fly it the right way round.

Drive out to Pontbail, a lovely little fishing village. Have a stroll across the bridge and out to a restaurant on the headland. We were going to have coffee but when we discovered they didn’t know what a Latte was we decided it was best to abandon that plan.

Have a coffee in the town, sat enjoying the sunshine, although it’s a tad cool in the wind.

Interesting little town. So far we’ve never seen a booze shop – aka off-license – in any of the towns and villages. Yet this place has two. One of them has the best selection of whiskies I’ve seen in a ling while, plus a butcher that even sells wine and some whisky.

Bread, cheese and wine for tea – aka dinner for any southern softies brave enough to read this non-PC monologue.

A quiet evening in watching Homeland.

Off up to Cherbourg for a weekly shop at Leclerc. Manage to get a bottle of Elijah Craig.

Call in at Barfleur after Cherbourg. Allegedly one of the prettiest villages in France. Well it was quite quaint but if that’s one of the prettiest then the rest must be somewhat dire.

Have a stroll around the harbour and stop for coffee and chips – a famous English food combination. Amazing, despite repeating our order they manage to screw up 2 out 5 items. What can you expect it’s France and our waiter was so busy mincing around with the gay meter turned up full throttle, he probably couldn’t even remember where he’d left his gold lama posing pouch.

As her indoors has no idea what’s for tea – see above for Southern softie translation – I end up having bread, cheese and wine again. Oh how I have to suffer.

The economy in France must be on the up, there’s fewer stolen toilet seats these days. Only need a blow up toilet once – what a cracking idea for Dragons Den that would be, they’d sell like hot croissants in France.

When we booked our caravan pitch we never bothered to specify a “No smoking pitch”, but now we have a human chimney on the pitch next to us. His Misses obviously doesn’t smoke and forces him outside, so we get the benefit when the winds in the wrong direction.

Wendy and I take a cobweb destroying, open top, drive down to Carentan. Visit E.Leclerc, oh the excitement, I’m orgasmic.

Afternoon we drive down to Baupte for a walk. Park looks very nice but the walk’s about as enjoyable as a stroll around Khyber Pass in downtown Blackburn.

Evening is curry and bread and butter pudding round at Barry’s, all washed down with wine and some Elijah Craig – it goes down well.

Stroll into town with Wendy. Have coffee at the cafe with all the Holy gamblers – after an hour on their knees in the cold damp church, with a missing spire, they all troop in here to gamble and drink. Oh and gorge themselves on the free bread and sausage.

Then in the afternoon we go for a walk around the Plan d’Eau – a lake – not a very long walk I might add. And as for the cafe, well it was that scruffy that even the cockroaches had left for fear of food poisoning.

Evening finally finish off Homeland – improved towards the end.

Lazy morning. Dot and Wendy drive off in search of new exciting supermarkets, so Barry and I have a saunter into town. Not really sure why, other than to spread confusion and discord. Well we knew it was Monday and expected most of the lazy beggars to be shut but everywhere is shut, including our favourite cafe. So no Whiskey crawl for us. Even the flower shops, lawn mower shops and hairdressers are shut.

Somethings up, must a contagious national outbreak of “idolitus couldn’t give a damess”. Turns out it’s yet another bank holiday.

Finally find that Hotel Commerce is open. Is it worth suffering the rude, chauvinistic arrogance and surliness of the harridan waitress that lurks in there? Our thirst gets the better of us. No chance of a whiskey though all they sell is wine and the usual urine coloured drink that they try and pass off as beer.

Saunter back to find Wendy and Dot have struggled to find an open supermarket, even E.Leclerc were closed. It’s just like England in the 1960, except that you can’t understand a word they’re saying.

Dinner around at ours. Corned beef hash with some wine and eventually some Elijah Craig Bourbon – very quaffable – and nicer than Jack Daniel Select barrel. Alas the Elijsh Craig has all evaporated.

Drive out to Saint Vaast La Hougue with Dot and Barry for lunch. A pretty little fishing village. Prettier than Barfleur.

Have a very pleasant lunch. Their fish tartiflet was awesome.

Lazy evening in catching up on Designated Survivor. Don’t you just love how many times he says “the American people”.

Time to pack up.

Saunter down to the market for a final coffee whilst the sun dries off the awning. Then in the afternoon it’s take the awning down – takes about 2 hours, with coffee break – followed by clean the caravan. Pack up most things ready for tomorrow.

In the evening we’re all off out to the Pom Cannelle for dinner. Well would be if the idles, feckless French souls could be bothered to open on a Wednesday evening. A pity, really looking forward to one of their Gallettes – really good food and service.

Have to compromise and go to the Fish restaurant, whose proprietor seems to open when he feels like it. Service was good and food was ok, but the menu was not inspiring. Spent most of his time grimacing and telling us what choice was off the menu today. Along with other diners, spent half the meal searching for the salt and pepper, which were carefully camouflaged to look like a couple of shiny flat pebbles. Can’t believe what pervert made or bought those!

Back to Barries for a final bourbon nightcap. End to a perfect holiday, even though it was in France.

Pack up the caravan in the morning then it’s a pretty lazy afternoon so we have an exciting trip to Carentan E.Leclerc and Lidl to while away the afternoon. Then it’s afternoon tea with the Gaudens and we set off to Caen.

Pleasant drive to Caen apart from when we get to the port. There’s a large illegal immigrant presence and a corresponding large armed police presence. Suddenly we’ve a giant lorry up our exhaust pipe, honking away on his horn at us. Really dangerous as we’re going round a bend. I can see why as the immigrants are trying to board his lorry like a hoard of pirates trying to board a ship. I’m furious at the danger and am so tempted to stop and walk over to the police and complain. Pull into the car park.

There’s illegal immigrants marauding everywhere and the police are constantly moving them on. Why the hell they don’t just arrest and deport them. Weak and wishy governments yet again.

Have dinner at the port watching the marauding immigrants.

Then it’s a long , boring wait to board as the ferries late.

Off the boat fairly quickly and then it’s a MacDonalds breakfast before our short drive up to Brett’s.

Lovely flat.

Shower and settle and in the afternoon we go a long walk around Cowarth Park. Call in for an afternoon beer. My god you can tell we’re in the rich South, don’t think I’ve ever paid as much for a round of drinks nearly fell off me perch and my credit card had a catatonic relapse.

Brett really loves Waitrose, what with a free coffee and a free newspaper can’t say as I blame him. Awesome choice of foods. But alas not something they have in Blackburn, I wonder why?

Brett made dinner in the evening. Yet another one of my sons who cooks. Must be in their genes but obviously by passed me along with the gardening gene.

Go into Windsor. Just happen upon a changing of the guard ceremony but they’re boring black uniforms, not blood red – always handy in battle to hide and blood on the uniform.

Pop down to Eton college but the grounds aren’t open. Toddle off for lunch in Sunningdale.

In the evening Brett coooks again.

Have a stroll around Virginia waters then watch the polo. It’s quite entertaining and best of all it’s free.

Then the long, road work ridden, traffic jammed drive home.

End to an awesome holiday.

Nightmare journey down the M6 as usual. What prat thinks that a 20+ mile roadworks is a good idea. They should be shot.

Arrive in plenty of time so have a wander around Gunnery Wharf and a drink, to pass the time away. Alas no slitted black bin liners to keep us amused as they attempt to eat spaghetti, under their nib.

Usual wait to board. How dare they keep us geriatrics waiting. Don’t they realise that as we’re so old we don’t have that long to live and time is more valuable than for the young. In future perhaps they might consider queuing based on eldest at the front.

Only 30 minutes out Wendy remembers that French have no sense of humour as she encounters the first surly, humourless French sales assistant.

Well stocked duty free, but a tad disappointing for Bourbons.

Off the ferry by 08:00 and then it’s a 80 minute drive to our caravan, along good, empty roads. Almost makes driving pleasurable.

Caravans on pitch and within an hour we’re all set up. Then we decide to risk divorce and attempt to put up our full sized awning, that we’ve bought with us. Better use it after it’s taken up the whole of the back seats of the car. We’re amazed how quick one cripple and a short arse got the awning up, it is as taught as fat tarts G-String to boot, and just takes an hour. Mind you it’s another 30 minutes stapling it down. But good news is not a single swear word and no divorce lawyers are needed.

Weather lovely and sunny and not too hot.

Dot and Barry arrive mid-afternoon. They’re on the pitch opposite so we can share wifi.

Decide we’ll all go out for dinner to save on the cooking. So it’s off to the Commerce. Had a good meal here last time and service was pretty good. This time the food, on the limited menu, is as good as always. If you want to visit somewhere in France to confirm their worldwide reputation for bad service, bad manners and chauvinistic arrogance then this has to be top of the list. Our waitress had obviously studied at the world renowned Parisian school for rude waiters, where she came top of her classes, summa cum laude, in each of the three main disciplines of bad manners, insolence and surly disposition. I’ve seen a better smile on a Tasmanian Devil with a raging toothache.

Good nights sleep and we’re not up until about 09:00.

A lazy day with the excitement of a walk into town. And that’s about all I can remember.

Lazy start and then we’re off with Dot and Barry up to Cherbourg.

Get a call from an ex-colleague who wants to know if I’d do some consultancy for them on their ARC. Sounds interesting.

Call in at Decathalon where Wendy gets treated to a cooking stand for the awning – spoilt.

Weathers very pleasant so we start off with a coffee around the Place de something or other. Very pleasant people watching and they even employ a waitress with a personality.

Then it’s the highlight of the week for the ladies as they get to go to a giant L’elclrec – not it’s not an electric goods store – it’s a supermarket. Barry and I explore the wines and whiskies then it’s off for the 2nd Espresso of the day, whilst the ladies do a trolley crawl.

Tea is bread, cheese and wine around at ours. I could live on this every day. Then to finish off another awesome day Barry and I manage a night cap that makes a serious dent in a bottle of “Double Rye” – may be the cheapest of the High West Bourbons but it goes down like nectar.

I sleep very well.

Lazy morning, by the time we’re ready for a stroll into town, all the shops are closed – apart from florists, hairdressers and lawn mower shops – for their 3 hour lunch. Smart move on our part.

Stop for an obligatory coffee. Explore the fish restaurant in town and confuse the hell out of the proprietor with my English renditions of French. Probably very frustrating for him as he can speak English and it would have been better than having a Roast Beef crucify his language. Mind you if he had the wit to display his opening times – fairly fundamental piece of information you’d think – we’d have saved ourselves 5 minutes of utter confusion.

Afternoon tea after our 4 mile saunter. Draft terms of reference for my proposed consultancy project. Could be interesting, just up my street and similar to previous consultancy projects. Then in the evening we catch up with more of the Americans from Amazon Prime.

Lazy morning. Fix the toilet pump without a single swear word or curse.

Have to say having a full awning up is great. Gets nice and warm even though the temperature outside is a tad cool, and gives us so much more space. Wendy can now cook in the awning which frees up more space inside.

Will have to consider one of those blow up awnings. We can sell this full awning.

Another walk into town, is the highlight of the day.

Dinner at Dot and Barrie’s along with some wine and a very pleasant and soft Glen Grant single malt whisky. Manage to stagger back across the road to our caravan. Try watching Homeland but sleep gets the better of me – I wonder why?

Slept like a log.

Glorious sunny day, just the right temperature.

Lazy morning, again. Then walked into town, along the cycle path, just after lunch. Surprise, surprise nowhere is open.

What an exciting life we lead. Thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster for Wine, Brandy and Whiskey.

Caught the 22:30 Stena Line ferry from Liverpool to Belfast. Drive through Liverpool is worst than trying to navigate a maze on a tandem. As usual get their early, so we’ve quite a wait, but being recognised as a cripple we’re first row to board.

Ship is not that big but very modern and fresh. Cabins are quite spacious and when the bursar sees a cripple hobbling through we get assigned a new cabin on that deck – how thoughtful and considerate. Bars very pleasant and drinks are not too expensive.

Calm and peaceful crossing. I have a very pleasant full English breakfast. Only downside of this ferry is that you land at 06:30 and we’re first off.

It’s about a half hour drive to Anna’s so we arrive about 07:30. Wendy wonders whether they’ll be up this early. Well if they’re not they soon will be. Yes, they’re up.

Anna and Leon’s home is lovely in a very up market and secluded neighbourhood just outside Bangor. They’ve five bedrooms so the two of them are rattling around like marble in a steel drum.

After getting the grand tour and choosing our bedroom – good wifi – we drive back into Belfast. Park up at the Titanic exhibition and do it first as it’s only just opened up. A tad pricey but would recommend it. It seems that the place is infested with a Dutch down filled jacket Company tour, everyone is wandering around in these latest fashion icons, obviously get them cheap at their factory, and muttering away in guttural Dutch.

Have a spot of early lunch and then catch the hop on and off bus tour.

Classic screw up as usual. Brochure says pay driver, the cafe that sells tickets doesn’t accept credit cards but says they do on the bus. Bus driver does not accept credit cards and gets into a full scale slanging match with Wendy – little does he know not to mess with her she’s menopausal and can make me seem like a placid Tibetan monk by comparison.

Tour is actually quite good with good narration and anecdotes, at least when you can hear it. Although Belfast is booming and there is a lot of regeneration I really didn’t realise how divided the city still is. Sadly the peacewall still exists, dividing the two communties, catholics and protestant – yet another one of the many benefits that religions brings to the World. At night the gates are locked and this monstrosity is about 3 times the height of the Berlin wall. What’s even sader is tha in a recent poll 72.5% wanted it to remain. Apparently there’s still violence kicking off daily, even if not on the scale of the past, and yet none of it gets reported in the mainland. It wouldn’t take much for this place to kick off big style and the BREXIT Irish border issue may just be the spark that’s needed. Then all those shiny new, glass fronted buildings will be a real nightmare.

Back to Anna’s for dinner and of course a spot of wine. Then we take a bottle of Proseco to the local beach to watch the sunset. Great end to a great day.

Lazy start to the day.

All head off down to Belfast to see some of the sites on foot.

Start off with a drive past some of the murals, their very impressive. Then it’s the famous market. Wendy and Anna are in their element, but as for Leon and I well less said the better. In Leons case they must have been here so many times, doing their tourist guide stint with friends and family, that they are on first name terms and christmas card lists with all the stallholders. Have lunch in the market.

Then we’re off down to the glass domed shopping centre. Spectacular views from the top of the glass dome, very impressive and it’s free – but they’ll need more than the luck of the Irish for these glass edifices to survive if the troubles kick off again. They’ll truly get to know what the Shard means.

Then we have a grand walking tour. See some more murals. Walk to the famous Crown Pub but it oh so busy we give it a pass. Finally find a typical Irish pub where we can have a seat and try a Guinness. Can you believe it, 68 years old and never had a pint of Guinness. Tried a mouthful about 30 years ago and didn’t like it. Well either my tastes have changed or they’ve improved the taste. Actually really enjoyed it. No doubt I’ll be trying some more.

Not bad for a cripple as I manage 3 miles on my cripple sticks.

Then we just get back to Bangor in time for our dinner reservation. Very pleasant dinner on the coast and then off for a short tour to see the sunset. Back home their’s just time for some wine. A pleasant end to a great day. Belfast is such a nice City, pity there’s still such a divide and it wouldn’t take much for it all to kick off again.

Another lazy morning.

Wendy and I get the joys of a trip to Next and a local Mall.

Then it’s off for a stroll along the beach in Bangor followed by a pleasant lunch out.

Sunday evening we all have a takeaway from the local Asian restaurant. A mixture of Japanese, Chinese and Korean cuisine.

Up early and off up to Bushmills for a tour of the Worlds oldest distillery – 1608 – and of course a no tour would be complete without a tasting. Lash out and buy a bottle of the very tasty and sweet Reddish. Also but some lovely tasting glasses and a shot glass to ensure I don’t drink too much.

Drive up to the Giants Causeway. Another World Heritage site. All looks very organised and obviously a big tourist attraction, but it’s £11.50 and as I’m still on me cripple sticks, we doubt we’ll get the full advantage of it. Give it a pass and save it for another trip. Who nows may pay us to join the National Trust next time we come – yes, there definitely will be a next time.

Drive back down the picturesque coast road. Stop off for an Irish stew lunch at Ballintoy, a picturesque harbour, used as a backdrop in the Game Of Thrones, Iron Island scenes. The coastal drives very picturesque but it takes us a good 3 hours and then we’ve got the drive across Belfast and out to Bangor.

Pick up some tea – an awesome apple and black pudding sausage rolls and sandwiches – from M&S, for tea at Annas. Then it’s off to catch the overnight ferry back to Liverpool. Wendy buys a load of duty free perfume and I splash out on a Litre of Busmills single malt. Prices are very good.

Overnight crossing was very calm and we both got a good nights sleep. But off the ship at 07:00 and then drive home, avoiding Liverpool. How do people cope with this level of crap on the motorways every day. Whatever happened to living close to work. Instead of building more roads why aren’t we incentivising employees and companies to promote working from home?

Well somewhat belatedly here’s my final blog of this adventure.

A crap morning dealing with Axa, trying to get my flight booked. Every time you speak to them it’s a different tale. They either lie or are totally incompetent. Bit like trying to plat fog.

Yet another lazy day in going stir crazy. Want to ban waterboarding, then here’s a physical pain free solution that’s way worse. Not allowed out all day, so start to suffer with cabin fever; add in looking after a 1 and 4 year old all day; add in kids TV all day with Baby Enistein and Peppa Pig running non stop and on an infinite repeating loop; prohibited from going shooting as planned; then because of my retirement commandments I can’t ease the day with, alcohol, sleep or TV. Water board or shoot me – role on 17:00, when I can have some medicine!

When 17:00 finally arrives Fiona helps me down a bottle of Gnarly Head, Zinfandel – she’s definitely a bad influence. To cauterise the mental torture I finish the day with a few High West whiskeys from my collection and then slither up the stairs to bed.

Todays I end up madder than a jihaddy bomber who arrives in paradise to find they’ve run out of virgins as I try to reconcile hospital bills, with the numpties in Intermountain Health accounts department. You need to be a Philadelphia lawyer with a Phd in forensic accountancy to understand their accounting system and statements. It takes three of them over an hour and they still can’t understand their own system. It’s a complete mystery. If you weren’t ill when you started dealing with them, you’ll certainly be in need of major psychiatric care by the end. I finally realise I might as well chalk pentagrams and stroke my toad.

Finally get to go shooting. Wendy had decreed that it was better to go today as she needed me out the way whilst she cleaned up. Enjoyed my last taste of the forbidden fruits with my favourite 9mm Wilson Combat.

Then it’s off to the liquor store to buy some booze to take home – cheaper than duty free and I can get the whiskeys I really want. Buy a bottle of High West Double Rye and Bourye, along with a Basil Hayden.

Rosita rings me back from Intermountain Healthcare, at last someone with a brain, and she has finally figured out whats wrong. They’ve made a posting error of some $300+, plus a smaller error on my PCMR bill and have included a bill from last years incident.

In the evening Bob and Marilyn pick us up and we go out to the free sports club volunteers appreciation dinner at the Dejoria Centre. Pleasant evening with PCMSC leaders. Lovely location but sadly the food seems to consist of charred chicken that was dryer than a dessert cactus skin and would have been great to resole my shoes with; along with congealed pasta and a chocolate browny that you could have used to hammer home 6″ nails in with and probably was a left over from the Easter buffet two weeks ago.

Kurt drove us down to the airport and they flew home.

Swapped our 7 seater Ford Explorer for a top of the range 7 seater accura QX60. Someone had forgot their wallet along with paper driving license. Good old hertz can’t accept an image of driving licence on my iPhone. I wouldn’t mind imy license is over 50 years with no picture. But hey ho, rules is rules, please don’t apply any common sense. Anyway to her credit Mrs Hertz swapped the rental over to Wendy, looked at me on my cripple sticks and said but you won’t be able to drive it, and gave Wendy my upgrade to a premier class vehicle – very swish. Wendy very bravely drove back up to Park City in a snow storm.

Called in at the outlet stores to see a summer dress Wendy had her eye on. Reduced from $50 to $15. In typical female fashion, that has no comprehension of the difference of the words “want” and “need”, she buys 5 of them. Just think she saved me $175. I was chuffed as a credit card in a silk purse!

Rest of the day spent tidying up and finishing packing. At least by Wendy, whilst I sat and contemplated my cripple sticks.

In the evening Bob and Marilyn came round for a farewell dinner. Mexican takeaway from Chubasco’s. Sadly not up to their usual standard. Barbara and Steve popped round to say a fond farewell until next winter, and like the typical good neighbors cleared the 3” of new snow off our porch to save me from breaking my neck. Yes, we finally get some snow today – 3″ not bad – too dam late.

Then an early night after a few easy watching episode of “Still Game” – a poor mans version of “One Foot in the Grave” that needs subtitles on to cope with the Glaswegian accent that you could cut with a cut throat razor.

First class flights for me. Wendy’s consigned to cattle class. I wonder how the poor people are doing?

Tsa are about as bright as a box of rocks. They want to know if I can walk through scanner without my cripple sticks. What do they think they are some latest Armani fashion accessory.

You really do have to worry about the lack of profiling when they think that a 68 year old cripple represents a plausible threat. Meanwhile they’re too busy groping and swabbing me down to sniff for explosives, everything out of my pockets, so Sherlock only knows where they thought I’d have explosives on me, must have thought I had an explosives implant. Meanwhile someone comes through unchallenged

Delta first class not worth the money, no better than premium economy. Food was disgusting. Only consolation is that they had some Woodford Reserve.

Upper class on Virgin is as comfortable as ever. Although at these prices I really don’t expect to be told that they’ve run out of the beef dish – to be fair though, as I kicked off, they credit my account with 8,000 air miles. Come on there’s only 14 of us spoilt passengers. All looked after by two first class flight managers.

I pop back into cattle class to see how the poor people are doing and to show Wendy what are my menu choices for dinner. She keeps sneaking into upper class and gets her breakfast with me to make up for the vile concoctions served in cattle class.

With the exception of the usual senseless TSA ordeal this is certainly the way to travel although $6,000 is a tad too fast a way to fritter away our kids inheritance.

First site after customs in the UK is a black bin liner burka clad wench, perambulating around like a lost Dalek – well could have been a fellla jihadi on his way to claim his just desserts and pummel 70 perpetual black eyed, buxom virgins. The airport is infested with muslims. Quite a culture shock as in 10 weeks in PC I’ve seen just one muslim. Makes us ponder on how many there are in the UK.

Welcome back. Just 6 weeks in the frozen wastelands before we escape back to Park City.

Final thoughts for this trip.

No more skiing this lifetime.

SHIT HAPPENS, SUCK IT UP. There are people a lot worse off.

Wedding anniversary – 47 years. I celebrate it yet again on crutches.

We go up to Deer valley with the kids for a free days skiing. I get the joy of a bottomless coffee cup in Snowpark lodge. Wendy joins me with Beatrix. Helen comes up to joins us as no ones turned up for the Leisure ski. Kids and Jasper are off up the mountain. Jasper manages a few runs on the nursery slope and the dangerous lift – no safety bar. Then he goes up top and does a run down Success. That tires Jasper and Fiona out, while Kurt has a few runs on his own. It’s an awesome bluebird day and despite the warm temperatures and overnight freeze the snow’s in great condition.

In the afternoon Wendy’s at the CC yet again. Kurt takes me up to the hospital for my checkup and final Xray.

Don’t you just love American medicine. They take no risks and put you in for every chargeable item. Final Xray shows no problem – my legs not split open. What amazes me though is that my doctor has never once looked at or groped by knee or leg – not that it would particularly turn me on – but you would think he’d have checked it out rather than just relying on CT scans and Xrays. The other thing that concerns me is that twice I’ve mentioned my concern as to whether my bones are weak or brittle. Then quite by accident I come across the CT scan radiologist report on the pretty pictures disc and see he says I have generalised osteopenia, whatever that is. You’d think the sawbones would have picked up on that. Perhaps he’s never bothered to read that report.

One of the many pluses of American health service is that every X-ray or CT scan they give you a DVD with the pretty pictures on. If you read the CT scan with the available software then you can create several amazing videos with rotating images of your leg. Impressive.

Hal and Carol come around for afternoon tea, as going over to Carols for dinner would mean Beatrix being up too late. Then it’s a quiet night in.

Fiona and I manage to drink some wine.

Kurt takes Jasper up to PCMR for Jasper to have a ski lesson with Hal. He does very well. A few runs down first time and the slalom course to establish that he can turn and stop. Then Hal takes him up Crescent; a full run down Claim jumper; up Silver Load; then a full run down Home run to the basis. He does really well. Fiona doesn’t ski as Wendy’s yet again at the CC all day.

In the evening we all go out for a family anniversary dinner to the Windy Ridge Cafe. Their Macaroni Cheese with White cheddar, mozzarella, smoky bacon, scallion, garlic-herb bread crumbs is to die for. Wendy needs to get the recipe.

Fiona and I manage to drink some wine.

Watching the kids get ready for skiing is painful. It would have been easier to organise a D-Day landing.

Wendy takes the kids up to PCMR so the kids can take Jasper skiing.

I go shooting with Joe. Try a 38 magnum for a change – big bullets. Still prefer Joes 9mm, I can get quite a good grouping with it.

Joe drops me off at PCMR base and I meet the kids in the restaurant as they’ve just finished skiing. They’ve had a few runs down First Time, then the annual family ski race – resurrected from when Kurt was a kid and always won the annual prize, now it’s Jasper’s turn. Surprise, surprise Jasper wins. Then they have a run down Home run by which time Jaspers tired.

When they get back we have the gold medal presentation ceremony for Jasper and he wins a snow globe. He’s really excited and we’re all so proud of him. Those extra lessons in Manchester were worth every penny.

Wendy, Beatrix and I catch the bus home.

Quiet boozy evening in for Wendy and I. Fiona and I manage to drink some wine. Then Fiona and Kurt go out for dinner at the Boneyard. They manage a few drinks but don’t like the look of the pizzas so bring a Dominos pizza home – boring married couple just not used to the luxury of being able to go out together.

It’s raining so the kids decide not to go skiing.

Lazy morning in for me doing some French, whilst they have a walk in the rain to Starbucks – oh how the other half live.

I meanwhile have the usual crap to deal with in trying to get invoices and receipts out of Intermountain hospital. I’ve tried to pay it all off on my credit card so that they don’t get arsed around by Axa, but really start to wonder why I bother. Next on the craplist to deal with is Axa. Why haven’t they contacted me to sort return flights out? Just another one

of the daily helping of crap, incompetence and SNAFU’s I have to deal with. We have Apple software that’s caught the microsoft screw-up virus these days and then you have any major organisation that you have to deal with that is staffed by numpties who can’t even do the single simple task they’ve been given. The rise of the call centre and the demise of customer service.

In the evening we’re off to Fireside dinning to celebrate our anniversary with Bob and Marilyn. Awesome food, help yourself, great choice just end up bloated though. A great dinning experience but I think we prefer the Blue Boar overall – similar price and quality but you don’t get overstuffed.

Kids go skiing and have a great mornings skiing.

It’s a quiet night in so we belatedly celebrate our wedding anniversary with a bottle of Wilson Creek almond flavoured champagne. Even Wendy likes it. That daughter-in-law of mine is definitely a bad influence on my drinking.

Last day skiing as the mountain closes today.

Kids all go skiing, despite the snow, Jasper seems to relish skiing in the snow. Goes down with mouth open, like a whale scooping up, plankton.

Jasper’s really in his element skiing. Goes off like a rocket. Gets off First Time lift and off he ski’s like a rocket, no poles to worry about, so parents have a job to catch up with him. He looks oh so relaxed and enjoys it.

In the afternoon Wendy and I go to an Apres ski party for ski leaders only. Free Margaritas – quite surprised they’re quite pleasant, apparently these are made with beer – along with Brats and burgers. All provided by the sports club as a thank you. Pretty good food and as it’s ski leaders only there’s not too many so it’s quite convivial.

Quiet evening in. Wendy has dinner back home as she’s not enamoured with Brats and Burgers.

Lazy day.

Then in the evening we go out to the Boneyard with friends for a farewell dinner. Then afterwards we all troop round to Bobs for Irish Car Bombs. As Kurt said what are all you old farts behaving like underage teenagers for. Yes, we may be geriatrics but in our minds we’re all teenagers. Actually the car bombs made the Guinness quite palatable. First time I’ve enjoyed Guinness. A great evening and a grand idea to finish off the ski season.

Well that’s it not a mention of Scum…..ers from now on. Photos this week are somewhat limited so I’ve added “Ski Memories” over the years to brighten things up a bit.

Lazy morning again – cabin fever sort of day – chance to catch up on my French. It would be so much easier to have a few drinks, watch TV and nod off to sleep as the mood takes me, but I manage to resist. Wendy’s volunteering at the CC for the morning. Comes home with the usual red cross parcels and an Easter Basket for Jasper and Beatrix.

In the afternoon she takes me to the gun club. My treat. 100 rounds of 9mm in a Glock 34. One hell of a kick, it spits fire and sparks and without safety glasses could easily take an eye out as it spurts out the bullet case. Makes you wonder how anyone in the police, who doesn’t wear glasses, would ever use this without risking being blinded.

Call at the hospital to pick up something for tea with Wendy’s volunteer vouchers. The food there has definitely gone down hill. Not a patch on how good it used to be. But it’s free and still better than NHS hospital food.

Watch the last of Victoria on Amazon Prime. Impressive series. They certainly don’t portrait her as straight laced and frigid like her reputation.

Make a start on “Sneaky Pete” but one strong Dark and Stormy along with a few Bourye whiskeys gets the better of me as we both nod off to sleep. But at least my plan worked, the alcohol helps me sleep at night better than them dam junky tablets that addle your brain. Fortunately this fracture is not really painful but in the middle of the night it can just get a tad uncomfortable.

Wendy’s at the CC all day so I’ve an overdose of cabin fever, French and blogging, I feel like a Dalek whose plan to conquer the world was frustrated by a staircase.

Relief in the evening as we go out for dinner – delicious carnitas – at Bob and Marilyn’s. Also get to meet their kids and new baby.

Try staying awake to watch “Sneaky Pete” afterwards.

Meanwhile Ross is trying to sort their flights to Park City for summer.

Wendy drops me at the gun club for some AR15 time with Joe. Enjoy it but prefer hand gun shooting in the main, especially with Joe’s 9mm Rock Island ROCK ULTRA FS. Feels good and love the sights. Nearly as good as the Wilson Combat.

We pass on the Quiz as we’re going out to dinner and rumour has it that a scumboarder may be joining us. I really don’t think I would be able to restrain myself from some acrid comment.

Off out to the Boneyard for dinner with Joe and Donna. Have a great evening. Donna does a good job on convincing Wendy of the benefits of a Safari. Need to investigate further.

Lazy morning. call at Bob & MArilyns to pick up the baby seat. They’re all such a joy to fit in the car, fortunately we have a top mechanic on the job.

Wendy braves and survives the drive down to the airport to pick the kids up. Their planes about an hour early. Much better for them arriving in the day.

Obviously they’re exhausted but manage to stay up until about 19:00. Kurt’s trying to cough up a rancid dishcloth as a result of some dreaded lurgy he’s infected with.

Kids time clocks are all over the place, so they’re up with the night owls. Beatrix kicks off so Jasper comes and sleeps with us – we need a good kicking. Kurt has a bad cough and tight chest so he’s going to stay in bed. Fiona’s excited and keen to make the most of the amazing facilities here in PC. Yes, she’s all geared up for some lonesome retail therapy down at Tangier Outlets. We have the kids, drop her off and then run a few errands.

Pick Fiona up and then Wendy gets her fix at the supermarket. This is all too much excitement for me.

Wendy and I are off wine tasting for the evening. There’s only 14 of us but it’s a pleasant evening of drinking and socialising with other members of the Newcomers club. Sadly my Zen of Zin Zinfandel didn’t win the blind tasting but glad to say that both Wendy and I rated it as the best. Kids are all in bed when we get back.

I thought I had a rabid hatred of scumboarders but one woman’s F…ing and jeffing hatred of them makes me look like the president of the snowboarders fan club.

If you think skiing is dangerous you should try negotiating your way around lego and toys on the carpet, on a pair of crutches.

Lazy start to the day.

Hot cross buns for breakfast. Memories of hot cross buns on Good Friday, fresh from the bakery in Oakham. Then it’s Easter eggs all round – apart from Wendy – in keeping with family traditions, as a kid, I pig out on a whole Easter egg.

Baby Einstein drives us nuts.

Take the kids up to Deer Valley to see the Easter Bunny. He’s so elusive he doesn’t turn up. Must have disappeared down a rabbit hole. Wendy’s declared war on Deer valley. They advertise this event, none of the staff have a clue about it and then there’s no Easter Bunny. Bloody clueless and the organisational skills of a drunken penguin – laziness and stupidity the parents of disorganisation. Guess they be getting the sharp end of Wendy’s tongue in a email tirade.

Helen and George pick us up to go to the Apres ski up at Red Ledgers. Another lovely house with great views of the Timpanogas.

You can tell it’s nearly the end of the season by the number of cripples hobbling in. 3 of us. I get lumbered talking to one guy, let’s call him superman, given his physical prowess. Yes this guy has enough legendary ski tales to go on stage with his own 3 hour monologue. Just some of his many “achievements” include “No problem skiing with a broken leg as he can ski down the whole mountain on one leg”; “skis and chats – simultaneously – with olympic champions, and at 60 MPH”; “ski instructor”; “ski patroller”; he’s threatened Deer Valley ski patrollers who cross him with “being unemployed tomorrow”; now he’s recovering he’s achieving 60MPH on his trainer bike; you name it he’s done it with bells on and at speed. Fortunately manage to escape his monologue and inflict him on an unsuspecting Wendy.

Helen and George pop in for some quality Jasper time. They’ll be glad to get home for a rest.

Kurt’s still in bed but feeling a tad better.

Beatrix has a a real hissy fit overnight so Wendy takes her downstairs so Fiona can get some much needed sleep. Then it’s a real battle of wills. Plenty of crying but no real tears. Just a 10 minute tirade and a squirming struggle. She – Beatrix that is – finally gives up and nods off.

Lazy start to the day. Kurt’s still poxy, needs a bell round his neck and should wander around shouting “bring out your dead”.

Drop Kurt off at the doctors. Then take Fiona and Jasper up to the PCMR base for them to have a ski on the magic carpet. But it’s not long before Jasper wants to get on First Time lift. Has a few good runs down following in Fiona’s wake. Those ski lessons in Manchester seem to have really paid off, he’s looking quite comfortable on skis, turning and stopping well.

Pick Kurt up complete with a $295 bill for seeing doctor and meds. A tad worrying, diagnosed with a viral chest infection but they give him a prescription for antibiotics – another chink in the wall of antibiotic resistance.

In the evening Bob and Marilyn come round with their kids and grandkids. Papa Murphy’s for tea, some wine and then it’s onto a serious whisky tasting. Now have a full collection of 6 of the High West whiskeys. Two youngest kids get on well as they sit in the corner, under the table playing on their iPads and eating and ice cream cornet.

READER WARNING – this week’s blog is a Special Edition, going to be heavy into ranting about scumboarders. Once I’ve got it out my system normal tedium will be resumed next week. Well at least it’ll give the religion of pieces and permanent offence a rest.

Can’t believe I managed last evening with just one glass of wine. How restrained was that. Thought I’d be downing a bottle of High Wests finest whiskey.

Not too bad a nights sleep. A bit uncomfortable but not painful. Took one of my junky opiate tablets halfway through the night, which did the trick.

Last nights whiskey was so much more effective than them dam junky opiates. Perhaps you should be able to get whiskey or whisky on the NHS instead of traditional addictive pain killers.

Another lazy start to the day. At least I manage to get in the shower. A real work of art and achievement.

Off to see the sawbones in the afternoon.

Greeted by Jabba the Hut, the receptionist, well not really greeted, more like a smile hiding a grunted snarl. Asked to fill in yet another two page questionnaire that repeats most of the same questions I’ve filled in over the past few days. Joined up thinking obviously not for this century. I have they never heard of the simplicity of XML data exchange?

Finally get to see the sawbones who brings up my CT scan and shows me the damage. Amazing technology and detail. As well as the main fracture across and down my Tibia there’s bout 4 or 5 minor short fractures that look like tributaries to the Nile Delta. Considering the collision didn’t seem to hurt, it’s amazing how much damage this collision has done.

Anyway he’s consulted with an orthopaedic surgeon specialist and the good news is that they both agree there is no need to be carved up and bolted back together. The bad news is that I need to keep this much desired fashion accessory of a leg brace on for about 4 weeks, no load bearing for 6 weeks. Me senses another 1st class flight home. No exercises I can do to stop the knee tightening up but after 6 weeks need to go and see my physiotherapist.

Amazing even though you’re paying, ($140 with a 30% prompt payment discount) just like in England, you’re still kept waiting. Amazing he doesn’t even look at my leg, but I suppose when you think about it $140 for two expert opinions is not bad. An hour later and not even a mumbled apology.

In the evening Helen and George come round for dinner. A very entertaining evening putting the World to rights.

Lazy morning for me while Wendy gets a small weekly shopping fix.

In the afternoon we hobble off to the pub quiz, with the usual gang of geriatrics. Really need some younger blood on our team to deal with the age biased questions. Not a spectacular result but we can always resort to the losers creed “It’s not the winning, it’s the taking part”.

Carol and Angela come round for dinner. It’s been one busy week for us, but these were all pre-planned, before my scumbaorder confrontation.

Another lazy start to the day. A full day of cabin fever. You can tell it’s desperate as I spend time improving my French.

My 3 commandments of retirement don’t make days in very easy:

1 Never Sleep during the day.

2 Never drink during the day.

3 Never watch TV during the day.

But chance to improve my French; research AI; research Quantum computing; research the Bitchain. More importantly think about what I’m going to replace skiing with? What to do next winter?

In the evening we’re off round to Bob and Marilyn’s for dinner. Great Taco soup, and with plenty to spare, I get some to take home. Help fortify the cripple.

Off up to the gun range with Joe. Very disappointed that they don’t have any targets with scumboarders on them. Manage ok on crutches, although give the AR15 we’d planned a miss for now. Probably appropriate considering it was “March For Our Lives” day. Get some good scores with Joes 9mm. Really like that gun, very similar to the Wilson combat – my favourite.

Wendy does an extra day’s volunteer at the CC.

Make a serious start on improving my French, sign up for Babbel.

The Wanderlust meeting is cancelled with just 4 hours notice, so I don’t have to do my Death By Powerpoint presentation on Home Exchange.

Wow, for tea just had the best Pastrami on Rye ever. Home made.

Quiet night in and manage to binge out with Victoria season 2 on our free Amazon Prime subscription.

Food for thought.

Which of the following would be the worse that your child could come home and admit to:

They’ve had their ear pierced.
They have a large, highly visible tattoo.
They have a giant hole in their ear lobe.
They have their nose pierced.
They are up the duff or have got someone up the duff.
They are going to join an extreme religious sect.
They want to become a muslim.
They want to change sex.
They are gay.
They’ve become a scumboarder.

For me anything would be better than a scumboarder in the family.

My friend Todd – safety patrol manager – has searched for employees and ski pass holders with the name Corbyn Fraig, Corbin Fraig, Corbyn Fraid or Corbin Fraid and come up with no matches. Looks like the scumboarder gave me a false name – now there’s a surprise. My fault. If I’d had my wits about me – difficult when you’ve just been wiped out – I’d have asked to photograph his ski pass or drivers licence. But then again if he gave a false name he’s hardly likely to let me photo genuine Id.

Lazy morning again, fighting cabin fever. Do some French studying – I hate grammar. Need to find some French films, who knows there might even be some good blue ones.

Evening we’re off to the cinema at the local library. Just $7 to see “The Post”. As you walked up to the cinema a blast of pop corn aroma hits you. They’re all there with giant plastic containers, carrier bags, brown bags and buckets of pop corn. Cracking good film all about the Pentagon papers and America’s cover up of the cock up that was Vietnam – so many young live lost due to political incompetence. Wish we had a First Amendment in the UK. Our free speech is in danger from the left wing fascist snowflakes.

What a cultural eye opener an American trip to cinema is. They clap and cheer throughout the film. fortunately there were no baddies so no booing. It’s amazing. No National Anthem though.

George and Helen drop us off at home, they stay for a drink and some political enlightenment. Another awesome evening.

OK so do I need my extreme weather jacket or my lightweight jacket for skiing today? Silly me, I forgot can’t ski no more.

Another lazy day. For a bit of excitement we have a ride out to Heber to see if they’ve got any cowboy style hats any cheaper than the one I’ve seen on Main Street. Nope. Call in and have a look at wheelchair rentals. Wendy thinks it would be a good idea so that we can get around more rather than dumping me with a bottle of wine and packet of crisps while they all go galavanting. The ignominy of it, being pushed around by your kids.

Call back on main street and get my hat for summer.

Awesome tea tonight with ribs and American baked beans.

Binge out on 4 episodes of Victoria.

OK, I think that’s enough, hopefully I’ve got scumboarders out of my system. But they should still be banned. Back to normal service tedium on the next blog.

I’m leading a ski group. With the snow conditions – a choice of ice or a slush puppy – I’ve about as much enthusiasm as having to attend a rendition of Handel’s Messiah in a dinner suit. Fortunately most of my regulars seem to have the sam enthusiasm, so it’s just Helen and I. A lazy morning followed by much needed coffee

Wendy’s volunteering at the hospital so it’s a lazy afternoon.

A quiet night in for a change so catch up on some HBO. Really is too much to choose from.

Jasper is doing so well on his ski lessons. So looking forward to taking him to the top of the mountain.

 

Very lazy morning skiing. Late start to allow the snow to warm up from it’s icy state and now it’s like skiing on a slush puppy. Nothing worse than that stop, go feeling as your skis suddenly slow down and nearly end up arse over ski tip. A bit of snow but nothing to get orgasmic about.

Wendy’s at the CC so I toddle off down to the gun club to perforate some more cardboard adorned with the “Weather Channels” image.

Bloody marvellous it manages to rain all afternoon but no snow. Fortunately the rain help hide my tears of frustration that there’s no snow. Dread to think of the carnage to the snow on the mountain.

Quiet night in watching HBO.

Yeah, at last it’s snowing. In the past week the US weather wizards have promised much and delivered little. They have all those Petaflops (what a nerd – 10 to 15 instructions per second) of computing power and still can’t get it right.

It snows on and off this morning and the geniuses on the mountain claim we’ve had 4″ in the past 12 hours but 0 in the past 24 hours. Go figure that out. To quote good old Ben Franklin “We are all born ignorant, but one must work hard to remain stupid”.

Wendy’s off to the hairdressers. I get to read Jasper, Kurt and Fiona a bedtime story, then I’m off skiing to see what this new snows like. Mind you looks like a whiteout up there so maybe I’ll just get to feel it as I bounce along.

Well crap a dead cat if it isn’t the worst snow ever in the USA. The new snow been compacted down as an ice like sheen on top of sheet ice from yesterdays rain. It’s awful to ski on. Perhaps it will be better higher up but that would still mean ski down on this frozen shit. One run and I give up. These conditions are a disaster waiting to happen. If I thought this was what skiing was going to be like for ever then I’d be off down to the Christian Centre, like jihadi late for a public square stoning, to donate ALL my ski gear.

Go home in a sulk.

Then it’s the quiz followed by a quiet night in.

Well apparently we had 4″ of snow yesterday, 2″ overnight. Tempting, as it’s a blue bird day, but after yesterdays ice rink I think a bit more snow is needed before I want to try it, so I’m off to bowling with the Newcomers.

Hilarious as one of the younger bowlers tries to get 6 geriatric bowlers to bowl league style – alternate between lanes. It’s just mayhem, about as hard as tryin’ to herd chickens, as us old dogs can’t grasp such complex new tricks. In the end she gives up and switches back to “Keep it simple” as we bowl on the same lane.

Followed by a Starbucks and then I’ve been condemned to go to the supermarket. Should have gone skiing.

In the evening we go down to Bronco Bills for a Mexican with Bob and Marilyn. Great food. Best Mexican we’ve had so far this season. Mind you for someone who thinks Taco Bells OK I don’t exactly have a high bar of expectations.

Off down to the gun range with Joe. Use his 9mm, very similar to the Wilson combat, good and solid, feels great in the hand and manage to shoot well with it. Best of all it’s only about $700, instead of the $3,600 for the Wilson combat.

Afternoon call in the liquor store while Wendy does a small shop ready for tonights soiree.

Friends and neighbours around for dinner and drinks. Introduce them to some of Utahs finest with High West Whiskey., that they’d never tried. Good food; good company; good wine; good whiskey. Really do think High West Double rye is one of their best and best of all its the cheapest.

8″ new snow yesterday and 11″ the previous day so todays a great day to ski. Have a leisurely morning’s skiing. Great conditions.

Then in the afternoon it’s a St Patricks Day apres ski party.

Gorgeous Bluebird day with good snow. Decide to have a lazy start, ski on my own day and pass on skiing with Helens group. Then I’m in the single line at Silverload for my first run and who is the exact foursome I get to share a six pack with but Helen. Meant to happen so I ski with Helens group. 2nd run our intrepid leader is taking us down Parleys. Not my cup of tea so I resort to plan A – ski by myself. Helen decides on Jonesys, says she prefer it but I try and dissuade her, please not to change on my behalf.

We all set off down Jonesys. I’m really enjoying a great run, bit of steeper terrain at the top and then the long easy finish. Like a good coffee with a full body bite to start with followed by a long mellow finish.

So why have I related all this boring detail. Well just to prove that shit happens. Wrong place, wrong time, the story of my skiing these past four years. I’m coming straight down the last stretch and wham a scumboarder hits me from behind. I think I’m going to survive it but no he takes me out. I remember thinking I’ll fall on my left side. Well the rest is just a repeat. Skis don’t come off. Try to get up, but no I’m not going to be able to ski down.

Needless to say I have a few choice words to say to the scumboarder. Why me? Why when there’s a wide open space? Ed was skiing with me at the time and saw him come over the slight brow of the hill and then totally out of control into me.

Yet another sledge ride down to the medical centre. Xray shows a fracture in my Tibula. Despatched home with a brace on, yet another pair of crutches and told don’t put any weight on it. Expert says I need a C.T. scan to determine whether it’s stable enough or will need surgery.

Wrong place, wrong time, again. Absolutely nothing to do with skiing with Helen, or the litany of choices leading up to it. Who knows if I hadn’t skied with her I’d have probably been pushed off the ski lift by some drunken scumboarder.

Irony is I’ve had a real mind game going on getting over previous incidents. What really grates is that it wasn’t my fault or skill. I’ve been so cautious, taken it so easy, but I might as well have just skied Black Diamonds this year. At least if I’d have given the terror of Erika’s Gold a go. I would have had the satisfaction of it being all down to me.

Well that’s it I promised Wendy I’d give up skiing if anything else happened this year. It breaks my heart to give up, but 4 years in a row, I think is trying to tell me something. What makes me even madder is that I won’t get to ski with Jasper. He’s doing so well and after seeing the latest video of his skiing I was so looking forward to skiing with him.

So I need to stop feeling sorry for myself, remember SHIT HAPPENS, SUCK IT UP.

Time for some whiskey. Money can’t buy you happiness but it can buy whiskey and wine which makes you happy

Ski leader today for the Leisure Ski group groomed greens and blues with the all important break for coffee. Quite a big turnout, 8 of them. But what a group they were a bit like greedy starving eagle chicks all braying for regurgitated worms and attention every time we stopped. “Where are we going?”, “Which way?”, “Which lift?”, “Me”, “Me” and more “Me”. They were so busy braying for attention that they often didn’t hear where we were going. I’d stop, and when they’re altogether tell them, and then repeat it at the next stop, but no they just couldn’t wait for that. Overall a great blue bird days skiing, just a tad intense.

Wendy’s at the Hospital, volunteering.

In the evening we pick Bob and Marilyn up and go down to Cortana, a quaint little, draughty, Italian restaurant. Draught from the door was enough to freeze and blow the balls off a brass monkey. Food was pretty good but in future try and get a table at the rear, away from the draughty door.

Lazy morning skiing on my own. Awesome bluebird day. Snow’s a tad hard packed.

You do have to worry about people who ask you where you’re from and when you answer England they come out with trite phases like “cool”. Then in the next breath proceed to ask you if you know so and so who lives in Manchester. Just how many people do they think lives in our “little old country”?

Wendy’s at the Christian Centre all day.

Get a phone call from the kids to say there’s a leak in the garage. Looks like a cap off the hot water pipes comes off and it’s been spewing out hot water for god knows how long. Dread to think of the resulting gas and water bill. Garage is like a tropical rain forest with steam water dripping from the ceiling.

Then to make matters even worse get a debt chasing email for payment of the remainder of my hospital bill from last April. Yes, good old Axa still not settled it and are now saying I’m not covered. More crap to deal with. Anything else to rain on my blue bird day.

In the afternoon I go down to the gun range, try out a Sig Sauer P238 and punch some holes in an Axa target. A dinky little 6 round automatic that fires 38 ammo. A real kick with that ammo from such a small gun. Finally get to master it. Very neat would easily fit in your pocket and with that ammo is pretty powerful.

Evening’s a quiet evening in watching TV.

Start the day with a call to Axa UK to resolve why this bill has not been paid. Lazy call centre scrot passes me over to Chicago who are dealing with the payment. 3 Chicago departments later, including the need to learn Spanish because some dago keeps say Hola, I’m transferred back to Axa UK’s Direct Line department. Only problem is I’m with Amex Platinum. Ring back in and get good old Dean, the bright spark whoops so keen to get me over to Chicago rather than take ownership of the problem. Tell him either take ownership of the problem or pass me through to a manager. Without even a by your leave he transfers me to who his manager. The first sentient human being I’ve spoken to in the past 75 minutes, he appears to have a brain, some drive and willing to show some customer care, enterprise and take ownership of the problem. He can’t see why they’ve refused the claim. Mind you even he admits his call centre staff are generally useless and as to dealing with Chicago it will take hime days. By now I’m totally frazzled, ready to go on a rampage with an AR15 in the Axa call centre. If I wasn’t driving I’d have a good slug of High West Double Rye.

Another blue bird day but with a difference. Pick Helen up and we go cross country skiing with the PCMSC. Hard work. 90 minutes and didn’t find a single lift. No coffee – uncivilised. Unfortunately I’m the only light bulb changer (male) amongst about 20 women, most of whom are good cross country skiers.

After 90 minutes I’m knackered and ready for a beer.

Wendy joins us all for a noisy lunch at the Jeremy Ranch Golf Club. Enjoy a pretty awesome Reubens and because the tap water tastes like cardboard have to resort to a couple of pints of Pilsner. I really shouldn’t break my 1st Commandment – “Don’t drink during the day”.

A great night out with Jere and Diane and friends, dinner, wine and bourbon then off to see “The Ventures”. Never heard of them before but have heard so much of their music. Powerful and awesome live. I wonder whether the Shadows were as awesome live?
Then end to another perfect day here in paradise with a nightcap of High West’s rare “Midwinter Nights Dram” at Butchers bar.

Pass on bowling today and go for a leisurely ski on a blue bird day. Much too warm. Cruelty to snow.

Lazy afternoon as Wendy’s at the CC.

Pass on the TGIF and have a quiet evening in for a change.

It’s a lovely sunny morning, too warm really, so we both catch the bus into Main Street for a stroll and walk back home – get some exercise to compensate for skipping skiing. Saturdays are way too busy and full of rug rats.

In the afternoon Bob and Marilyn pick us up and we go on a tour of the High West Whiskey Distillery. Tours only 30 minutes but interesting and best of all followed by a whiskey tasting session. Get to try their very rare “Light Whiskey”, oh so smooth and expensive. Wendy treats me to a bottle for our Wedding anniversary. Also get a bottle of their Bourye that I’ve been promising myself – so much cheaper to drink these at home than in a bar.

Wendy drives Marilyn’s car home, she’s the only one who’s not drinking – doesn’t like whiskey.

Go to Full House (that’s the name of the place) for dinner.

Then Wendy and Marilyn go off to the Eccles centre to See Riverdance – free tickets from Lorraine and Wally at the CC. Not my glass of whiskey, so I stay home and watch “Heartbreak Ridge”, an all American hero classic with Clint Eastwood. Also check out the Light Whiskey and Bourye I’ve just bought – they’re fine, not “corked” or gone off in the bottle. Perfect end to yet another perfect day here in paradise.

Lazy start to the day. Toddle off up to PC for a few ski runs and coffee. Awesome bluebird day yet again, but I’m distraught at snow melt. Bloody climate change, I wouldn’t mind I’m doing my bit by catching the free bus every day to the ski slopes rather than burning a gallon of petrol in my all american gas guzzler. And what thanks do I get for this supreme sacrifice? None. Instead the snows melting.

Chat to some folks from Kansas on the lift> The best they can come up with as reason to visit Kansas is they have great barbecues. Sad.

In the afternoon we’re off to an Apres ski party. What an awesome view of the mountains, there is from the home.

Really hate this afternoon drinking, but I suffer it to be sociable. Problem is I then fall asleep in the evening with the usual risk of smashed wine glasses. Fortunately Wendy’s sorted that issue with some stemless – low centre of gravity – wine glasses from the CC.

It appears that 50% of my blog readers (Diane) thinks that my blogs mellowing. Well crap a dead cat, I’m swivel eyed with that news. Looks like I need more whiskey and wine whilst writing my blog. Promise to do better.

Lazy ski morning, give the snow time to warm up. Had the luxury of a lift to PCMR base as Wendy off shopping with Marilyn – sounds expensive. No doubt it’ll cost me dearly with the “bargains” she encounters. Sadly too late a start to ski with Helens group. Devastated when she ski’s past me without so much as a heckle to “get a move on”. Snow’s either icy or a slush puppy. Too warm, just like spring skiing.

At one stage in the morning I think I’m back skiing in Europe as I watch this blond trollop crawl under the rope in order to improve her position in the lift line by 1 person – she’s off er rocker, as mad as box of frogs.

In the evening we’re off round to Bob and Marilyn’s for dinner. Good Italian food (eggplant parmesan courtesy of Bob and his Mothers family recipe), good wine and good company.